Fate Accompli by MM Jaye: Release Day Blitz with Excerpt

Monica Mitchell flies
all the way from Boston to Athens, Greece, not to get a tan but a very specific
job. Because besides an MBA, this twenty-four-year old has a mission: to prove
to Alex Argiros, the gorgeous Greek magnate, that she has now grown out of the
habit of flashing her underwear and looking like a zombie flick extra … in the
presence of hundreds.

The
catch? She has to hide who she is. Thankfully, not having seen him since her
early teens helps, and soon she gets all she wants and so much more. Not only
does Alex not connect his highly qualified new assistant to the disaster magnet
of his distant past, but apart from his admiration, he also offers her his
heart.

Now,
Monica has a new mission: to keep it forever. But first, she has to come clean before
he finds out her connection to the bane of his existence. Because if he does,
he’ll rightfully assume she plays the part of the Trojan Horse, and then he’ll
shed the sleek businessman exterior, letting his hot-blooded Greek nature take
over.

She
knows he could destroy her.

She
knows, yet she needs just a bit longer to savor his searing kisses…

MM Jaye’s mom claims that she spoke her first word at the age of six. Months. As a kid she would record fairy tales in her own voice, play them back and then re-record adjusting the pitch and tempo. Later, she used her voice to inspire young adults and teach them the art of translation. But there came a time when life took a turn for the worse, and her voice temporarily died out. That’s when she turned to writing.
Fate Accompli is the first book in her Aegean Lovers series, set on the Greek island where her husband proposed. MM Jaye lives in Athens, Greece, with her husband, daughter and Kindle.

The sky was full of dark pregnant clouds. A wicked
wind had suddenly picked up, and Alex saw the leafy tops of the ancient oaks
and elms of Richmond Park whisking incongruously following its capricious
behest.

He’d asked his driver to simply drive and not stop
anywhere. They’d been going around London for over two hours, but it was still
hard for him to face his empty apartment.

He had asked her to leave.

He knew the potential and the potency of their
chemistry, and he’d wanted more than anything to explore it to the fullest.

But this newest development was not a mere stalling or
yet another shadow cast over the exit of the “tunnel”. This was a wrecking ball
that blasted through the tunnel, crumpled the exit and trapped him in for good.

And the lead ball was now sitting on his chest. He
felt like Sisyphus, the symbol of futility in Greek mythology. The man who was
punished by the gods to eternally roll a heavy boulder up a hill only to watch
it crash down just short of reaching the top.

There was no way he would impose this on her. He knew
she would try her best to comfort him and he could see one thing leading to
another, but as appealing as that sounded he knew it would turn out to be a
selfish act. With this coiling anger already built up to a critical point in
him, there was no way he could be the tender, caring, selfless lover she
deserved to have.

He would devour her.

Unable to trust himself to refrain from seeing her as
an outlet for his extreme state of agitation, he’d reserved a suite at a luxury
hotel in the area and instructed her to leave his apartment.

It was for her own good. Their own good.

But it only added to his agitation. He decided that
being cooped up in a car for hours didn’t help either.

He asked the driver to take him home. What was the
point of avoiding his empty apartment? As if he could feel any worse.

Ten minutes later, he let himself in. Throwing his
keys noisily on the glass top coffee table, he grabbed the remote and switched
on the TV, increasing the volume.

He couldn’t stand the silence.

He switched channels impatiently. There was nothing on
but incoherent annoying mumbling. Nothing that could take his mind off his
predicament and Monica’s absence. She’d been in his apartment for only a few
hours, but he thought he could still smell her discreet perfume, and the idea
that he could not—should not—hold her in his arms made him want to scream.

With an impatient jerk of his hand, he switched the
television off. A cold shower could help.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he dragged his feet to his
bedroom, wondering why it was so dark as if someone had pulled down the shades.
He went for the light switch.

“Please don’t,” said a soft voice, “or I’ll lose my
nerve.”

Alex froze. Blinking rapidly, he managed to adjust his
eyes to the semi-darkness. And then he saw her.

Sitting on his navy sheets, hugging herself, her long
legs brought up under her chin, Monica was watching him.